


mercy killing

by ndnickerson



Series: honest [2]
Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Anticipation, Banter, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Dinners, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 14:17:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17726813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: Nancy is just a little nervous about having dinner with Ned's parents.





	mercy killing

"I'm going to need you to murder me."

George raised her eyebrows as she glanced over at Nancy. "Are we talking a fake hit for a case you're on, or...?"

"Worse." Nancy slid the elastic out of her hair and gathered her ponytail again, catching all the loose strands. A tennis match with George was definitely no joke. "Well, we can just say I died of heatstroke. Holy shit, it's a sauna out here."

"Uh-huh. 'Worse' means... did your dad find out something embarrassing?" George guessed.

"Almost." Nancy ducked her head. "I, uh, answered Ned's cell phone."

"When his parents were calling?" When Nancy nodded slightly, George hooted with laughter. "At a time you shouldn't have been innocently answering his cell phone."

"Yeah. Like I said, we'll need to make it look good. I need a new identity and everything."

"Well, if anyone could pull that off..." George raised her tennis racquet in mock salute. "So I’m imagining something big and splashy. We’ll need lots of stage blood, maybe a machete or two. Or we can just line up some plausible suspects you’ve investigated and go from there."

Nancy shivered. Some of her cases, she _definitely_ didn’t want to relive. Then she cracked a smile. "Thanks."

"No problem." They reached their cooler, and George downed half her water bottle, condensation rolling down the sides, before pressing it to her flushed forehead. "Honestly, though, is it really that big a deal?"

"It’s mortifying," Nancy said immediately. "To have dinner with them, and there’s no way Edith didn’t tell James…"

"Ahh. You skipped the dinner part." George took another long sip of water and pulled back with a gasp. Nancy dunked the corner of a towel into the icy water and bathed her flushed face with it, sighing in all too temporary relief. Then George hefted the cooler and led the way back to her car.

"What does Ned think of all this?"

"That it’s hilarious. He’s not nervous at all. I think he called it ‘slightly embarrassing.’" Nancy shook her head.

"What are you imagining? That Edith will pour you a mug of tea and hand it to you while asking ‘So how long have you been banging my son, you slut?’ and glaring at you?"

Nancy couldn’t help chuckling. "Kinda, yeah. My head knows she wouldn’t do that. But…"

"It’s the twenty-first century. You and Ned have been together how many years? She’d have to be incredibly sheltered to think you haven’t been sleeping together. And it sounds like Ned hasn’t exactly kept it a state secret either."

"Yeah, but, being pretty sure isn’t the same as having it flaunted."

George rolled her eyes. "Somehow I doubt you ‘flaunted it.’ ‘Oh yes, Mrs. Nickerson, so nice to hear from you. I just climbed off your ridiculously handsome son.’"

Nancy laughed and blushed at the same time. "The worst part was, we hadn’t," she admitted. "For once, we really were just sleeping in the same bed."

"Uh-huh," George said, her tone dripping disbelief.

Nancy sighed. "And if my best friend doesn’t believe me, there’s definitely no way she will."

George shrugged, then gave Nancy a pat. "You’ll be fine. You’ll get through it, and then we’ll get together with Bess for a post-mortem. With nachos. And margaritas." Her eyes lit up.

Nancy laughed. "You’re such a kind, sympathetic friend."

George grinned and tipped her head back in mock pride. "I do what I can. It’s nice to be appreciated."

—

Nancy knocked on the door of Ned’s apartment and took a step back. She had her own key, but he was supposed to be home already. Since his birthday surprise last year, actually, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d used it.

He opened it, an apple in his other hand, one crisp bite missing. He swallowed and gestured for her to come inside, his dark eyes alight.

She knew she was being ridiculous, but every time she forced herself to think _I’m worried about nothing, it’s not going to be that bad,_ she was overcome by nauseating panic. "So," she said, keeping her voice casual as she put her purse down, "what are you wearing?"

Ned raised his eyebrows as he swallowed another bite of apple.

"Saturday night," she clarified, tamping down her irritation. She was mostly mad at herself, anyway. She had stupidly answered the damn phone and started this avalanche of mortification. "Dinner with your parents?"

He paused with the apple half-raised. "Oh. I wasn’t invited."

"Wasn’t—" Nancy stared blankly at him, bile churning in her gut. She really _was_ going to have to fake her own death.

Ned burst into laughter, holding his hands up defensively. "Kidding, kidding," he said hastily, though his eyes were dancing.

Nancy shook her head, sputtering in speechless rage, as the blood that had drained so swiftly from her face flooded back. "Oh my God. Your parents are going to eviscerate me and you’re joking about it."

"I doubt it will come to that." He slid an arm around her shoulders, steering her toward the couch as he took another bite of his apple.

"You doubt it. So there’s a chance, then."

Ned flopped down on the couch and gestured for her to join him. "Sweetheart, they love you. They won’t kill you. It’ll be fine."

Nancy frowned as she sat down beside him. "How are you so calm about this? You know it’s going to be incredibly awkward, right?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. But it’s not like they didn’t already know."

Nancy’s mouth dropped open, and she stared at him in speechless shock again. Then she chuckled, shaking her head. "Good one."

He smiled gently and took another bite of his apple.

She kept staring at him, waiting for him to say he was joking again. But his expression was sincere. "You _told them?_ " she said. The way her blood pressure was heading, she would need to be hospitalized by the end of the day.

"Of course not," he retorted, his eyebrows up. Then he sighed. "So when I was getting ready to go to Emerson, they had a talk with me about respecting your boundaries and having safe sex."

Nancy knew she had to be beet-red all the way to the roots of her hair. "Well, that was… a while back," she said, weakly.

"And then again when I was moving into this place."

Nancy buried her face in her hands, hunching over. Shallow breaths, but without hyperventilating. Somehow. _Holy fuck._

Ned started rubbing her back. She heard him take a breath as though he was about to say something, but apparently he thought better of it. She wasn’t sure she would be able to form any coherent reply, anyway.

"So… I’m guessing your dad didn’t do that," he said slowly.

Nancy released a burst of sarcastic, almost hysterical laughter as she brought her head back up. "No," she said unnecessarily. "Very much no. I… I think he wants to be agnostic about it, really. He doesn’t ask and I don’t tell."

Ned murmured in understanding. "No wonder you freaked."

She brought her palm up in an exasperated gesture, then forced herself to take a slow breath. "Okay… so in my head, any of our parents knowing that we’re—having sex, is a sign of disrespect. To them."

Ned raised his eyebrows. "Uh, what year is it in your head? Eighteen-sixty-five?"

"I didn’t say it was logical. And you sound like George."

Ned laughed at that. "Well, if it helps, no, I don’t talk to my parents about our sex life." Then his expression changed slightly.

Nancy gasped in realization. "But you have!" she accused him.

Ned held his hands up in that defensive gesture again. "It was _once._ And I wasn’t bragging or anything, I just had a question. One that there wasn’t enough Google Safe Search to guarantee I wasn’t going to have nightmares."

She searched his face. "I want to ask, but I don’t."

He shook his head. "Trust me, you don’t."

Nancy groaned and covered her face again, rubbing her temples. "If I had just let your cell phone die instead of plugging it in," she muttered.

"Then Mom probably would have come over, and used her key, and—"

"And I would have spontaneously combusted out of sheer embarrassment. Which is still a possibility, by the way." Nancy sighed and sat up again. "Okay. So I’m going to wear… like, full-on Victorian schoolmarm. Buttons all the way up to here," she gestured above her collarbone, "below the ankles, mutton-chop sleeves, I’m thinking nice demure brown sprigged muslin. Maybe hoops." She smirked. "You?"

"It’s dinner with my parents." He took another bite of his apple. "Tux, of course."

\--

_Be right down._

Ned smiled as he put his phone down. He hadn’t seen Nancy this nervous about a meal with his parents since the first time, although even during that one, she had pretty much contained her anxiety. He had been able to see it in her eyes, her smile, her slightly breathless and overly bright conversation.

This time… she wasn’t hiding any of it, not from him. He found it pretty adorable. She had known his parents for years, and had been relaxed around them for most of that time. His mother put up a damn stocking for her at Christmas, _and_ put a few gifts in it. She had gone golfing with his father. She had her own mug for tea—pink with black polka dots—and for hot chocolate—a photo mug of the four of them in the snow at the Carbon Lake cabin—in his mother’s kitchen.

He’d tried to explain. In his experience, "come have dinner" didn’t mean imminent scalding. His mother wasn’t that cagey. But Nancy was convinced that his parents were going to chew her out—not him, even though it was his apartment and he had invited her to sleep over and they were consenting adults—and then maybe set her on fire.

She had lived through infinitely worse. He had been there for some of it. She was just _that_ upset by the idea she had offended his parents.

Ned smiled again.

Given her stress level, he had dressed up a little more than usual, even though he had felt a little ridiculous doing so. Usually a summer dinner at his parents’ house meant cargo shorts and a t-shirt. For tonight, he wore khakis and a polo shirt. Nancy had even called to make sure their outfits coordinated, so it felt like a date.

Which it was. Just not _that_ kind of date.

"Sorry!" Nancy gasped as she slid into the passenger seat. She wore a dress, aqua colored, that was pretty high at the neck and ended just below her knee. The back was gathered into a bow between her shoulder blades. Her high-heeled sandals were the same color as her skin, with a pale gold sheen, and made her shapely legs look miles long. He smiled when he saw a bracelet he’d given her circling her wrist. Under any other circumstances, she looked perfect for a meal at a nice restaurant.

"You look great, baby."

"Thanks." She flashed a brief nervous smile at him in return. "You look very handsome yourself."

He grinned. "Ready?"

"Not at all." She flipped the visor down to check her makeup and gingerly brushed her eyeliner with the edge of a finger. "But it’ll be worse if we’re late."

Ned chuckled and took the hint, pulling out of the parking space. "Everything will be fine, babe."

"Uh-huh."

"Seriously." He reached over and patted her knee.

"Please don’t touch me in front of them tonight."

He glanced over at her. At least a glimmer of humor—maybe gallows, but he didn’t mind—was dancing in her eyes. "After my last bite of dessert, I was planning to throw you over my shoulder and carry you upstairs to my old bedroom," he replied, deadpan. "They’ll never expect it."

"Ever the gentleman." She tugged at the shoulder strap of her seat belt. "Play your cards right and you’ll compromise my virtue so thoroughly that you’ll _have_ to offer for me."

"Oooh, I didn’t realize you were into Jane Austen roleplay. Tell me more."

By the time he parked in front of his parents’ house, Nancy seemed to have relaxed, thanks to their bantering. As soon as she glanced at the front door, though, he saw her tense again. He reached for her hand.

"It’s going to be fine," he said, for probably the hundredth time.

"Yeah," she replied, clearly unconvinced. She gave her makeup one last check before Ned opened her door and helped her out of his car.

"I need you to distract me," she murmured when they had almost reached his parents’ door. "I feel like hiding in your car until you take pity on me and drive me home. Oh God."

Ned leaned down to whisper in her ear. "After this I’ll take you back to my place and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name."

Nancy had just sucked in a swift breath, to reply or to smack Ned, he wasn’t sure, when the door swung open to reveal Ned’s father. Nancy made a quiet strangled sound. Ned bit the inside of his lips to keep from laughing. Nancy really would murder him if he did.

"Come in!" James said, mostly for Nancy’s benefit. He was smiling. "Edith’s just finishing up. We’re out on the patio tonight. How are you doing?"

Nancy responded with a smile. "Great," she said, and when her voice cracked slightly, Ned had to bite his tongue. "Thank you so much for the invitation."

As soon as he had turned around, Nancy turned to Ned with her eyes narrowed. "That wasn’t what I meant," she whispered, her voice practically a hiss.

Ned shrugged, his eyes dancing. "Worked, didn’t it?" he whispered back. "Unless you don’t want me to…?"

She shook her head. "Don’t even try to take it back now," she said. "That’s the only thought keeping me from faking some kind of emergency right now. Unless…?"

He patted her shoulder. They were a step away from the kitchen when they paused. Edith and James were just out of sight, laughing about something. Nancy had a wild, panicked look in her eyes.

"As magnificent as my dick is, it doesn’t qualify as an emergency."

Nancy sighed, then glanced over at him. "I’d say that depends on what you do with it."

"I like your optimism." He laced his fingers through hers and raised his eyebrows before they walked together into the kitchen.

\--

Nancy was, very slightly, almost imperceptibly, beginning to relax.

Edith hadn’t greeted her with the sign of the cross and flicked holy water. Their meal wasn’t a smorgasbord of phallic dishes to be capped off by banana splits; the grilled chicken was surprisingly delicious, even for Edith. James hadn’t winkingly elbowed Ned and made some veiled comment. They were acting… normal. But Nancy could feel that she herself wasn’t, not quite.

Conversation had gone from political events—Nancy had been around Ned’s parents long enough to be comfortable with that—to upcoming plans, Ned’s work, Nancy’s work, Mike and Jan’s baby. James mentioned golf plans with Carson, and Nancy tensed up all over again. Would he _say something to her father?_ Oh God.

Ned’s fingertips brushed Nancy’s hand, and he gave it a little squeeze. She returned it with only a glance in his direction; she was afraid to meet his eyes. He was going to tease her mercilessly about all this later, she was sure. She had been overreacting.

Oh, holy shit, did she hope she had been overreacting. And she knew that they wouldn’t be making excuses and bolting for Ned’s car before dessert, as much as she wanted to. Once she made it through tonight without ending up in a freshly-prepared grave in his parents’ backyard, the rest of her life would be infinitely easier in comparison.

Maybe Edith hadn’t told James. Maybe Edith had… filled in the blanks when Nancy hadn’t volunteered why she was over at Ned’s place. With something innocuous.

_it’s not like they didn’t already know_

Nancy nearly choked on her bite of corn. Oh God, _they knew_. She could feel that damned blush creeping up over her fair skin. The otherwise pleasant late summer sun felt like a heat lamp. Her dress likely would show sweat stains—hell, display them proudly. Her toes had curled at the point of her sandals for so long they were frozen in place.

_Well, it’s not like I can go back in time and do anything about it._

Normally the thought would be comforting, but Nancy was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Until it did, she couldn’t relax; after it did, well, she would just have to convince Ned to move to another country with her until she stopped blushing. And that would take a few years, at least.

"Sure," Nancy heard Ned say, and she snapped her head up. During the spiral of her momentary panic attack, she had completely zoned out; she could vaguely remember laughter, but no one was pointing at her.

Ned and his father were clearing dishes. The meal was over! She had lived! She didn’t mean for her sigh to be audible, and she covered it with a cough, sitting back and gingerly patting her stomach.

"Dinner was incredible, Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson. Thank you so much."

James laughed heartily. "You’re more than welcome. Perfect grilling weather. You were doing us a favor."

Edith laughed too. "And, sweetheart, don’t forget to bring Nancy a slice of pie with ice cream. Even if she swears she can’t eat another bite, I’m sure Ned will be happy to help her out."

James nodded, and Nancy watched Ned and his father stack up the plates and head into the house with a growing surge of trepidation. She started to push herself back from the table, to help out, but Edith insisted that she sit and let the men wait on them for a change. The expression on her face was still benign and pleasant, but Nancy could see something in her eyes, something speculative.

It was about to happen.

She suddenly wanted to fake a stomach ache, but maybe Edith would find that even more offensive—and then Nancy would have to come back for another nerve-racking meal. Ripping off the band-aid and getting through this shouldn’t be so hard. _Shouldn’t._

Ned gave Nancy a smile before heading in. His dark eyes were sympathetic.

She would have given _anything_ to beg him to stay, but something about it felt very final, like Edith had planned this. Nancy dabbed her napkin gently against her lips and placed it back in her lap, fiercely damning the heat in her cheeks, which was as ineffectual at stopping it as it always had been. She was a good actress in other situations, but here, in front of Ned’s parents, she was at a loss.

"So."

Nancy had met Edith’s eyes during the meal, more than once. Briefly, but she had. It had felt like a small victory. Now that they were alone, though, it was impossible to do it again.

"Nancy, relax. I didn’t invite you here to yell at you."

_Oh God, she wants to talk about it!_ Nancy forced herself to take a slow, deep breath instead of releasing a breathless, keening scream of utter mortification. She arranged her features in what she hoped was something close to a smile and managed to raise her chin.

Edith looked very placid and dignified, in a peach-colored blouse and tailored slacks. Her gaze was steady on Nancy. That strange watchfulness was still there, though. "More lemonade?" she asked, already standing and reaching for the sweating pitcher at the other end of the table.

Nancy tried to speak, but nothing came out. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Yes, please." Anything to delay until Ned and his father returned. Although maybe she wouldn’t stop even then, which would be even more mortifying.

Edith sat down as Nancy picked up her newly refilled lemonade. "So is he treating you well?"

If she had taken a sip, Nancy knew she would have spit it out. Small blessings. She considered playing dumb, but the question could be taken innocently enough. "Yes," she replied, and hated the hesitant note she heard in her own voice.

"Good." A small smile played on Edith’s lips as she regarded Nancy over her own lemonade. "James and I tried to teach him to be respectful. If he ever gets out of line, please let me know."

A strange, cold certainty swept over Nancy. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew what the answer was supposed to be. It wasn’t so hard, because she truly believed it. "In the unlikely event, I would take it up with him first," she said. "But I appreciate it."

Edith’s eyes sparkled at that. "Good answer. Are you living there with him?"

Nancy hadn’t been foolish or thirsty enough to take a sip from her glass yet; she managed to choke on her own spit, though, and coughed hard a few times. "No. No, ma’am. Definitely not."

"Just staying over, then." She didn’t phrase it as a question.

With every fraying fiber of her terror-filled being, Nancy didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to lie and didn’t want to admit it either. Anything she imagined saying just seemed likely to make the situation worse. Reflexively she glanced toward the house, hoping to see Ned returning, but he failed to materialize. Surely he knew she was dying out here. Surely he would do something about it.

"Has he proposed, or is he just taking advantage of the situation?"

Nancy’s eyes widened. "The—situation?" Maybe the earth would be destroyed by a horrific asteroid in the next few minutes. That seemed to be her only remaining escape.

Edith waved a hand. "Having his own apartment, and in Chicago. —I guess it doesn’t matter. You two have been together for a while. I keep hoping he’ll break down and pop the question. Do you want me to encourage him to?"

There was no way whatever Ned and James were doing in the house could be taking this long. So she was on her own.

_You don’t want to make an honest man out of me?_

Nancy tried unsuccessfully to speak again before finding her voice. "I think we’ll get there," she said, her voice quivering only slightly. "I… if Ned asks you about it, I’d say that… it wouldn’t be unwelcome."

Edith’s smile became a grin.

_Oh my God, did he plan all this?_ Nancy dismissed that thought almost immediately; he’d had no way to know that she would answer his mother’s call, and given how anxious she had been about tonight, she thought he would have called it off if he’d been able. But maybe the dinner invitation hadn’t been as spontaneous as she had thought, either.

Edith raised her arm and subtly crooked her finger, covering it as a stretch, but for Nancy it had become a puzzle, and she found puzzles irresistible. Too soon for coincidence, Ned and James returned, deep in discussion over the latest Lakers news. They carried plates of cherry pie slices with scoops of vanilla ice cream on top. And just like that, Edith was the perfect hostess again, the conversation between them immediately ignored.

After Nancy had honestly pronounced herself stuffed, Ned reached for her hand and glanced at his watch. "Thanks for dinner," he told his parents. "It was fantastic. Nancy and I kind of had plans…"

Nancy swallowed the bubble of hysterical laughter she could feel rising in her throat. As long as he didn’t elaborate on what those plans were…

"We’re very glad you were able to stop by." Ned’s mother smiled at both of them, and gave Nancy a hug. "I know you’re very busy. Maybe in a couple of weeks, we could have dinner again? No pressure."

Nancy and Ned glanced at each other. Before, neither of them would have thought twice about it. Ned raved about his mother’s cooking. "Sounds great," Nancy said, and gave Ned’s mother a genuine smile. "And I’d love to bring something next time, especially if Hannah’s able to help me out."

Edith grinned. "I could never turn that down."

Only by pretending as hard as she could that their tête-à-tête hadn’t happened, could Nancy even begin to act normally. She was grateful and smiling all the way to Ned’s car.

"Baby, I am so sorry."

She buckled her seat belt and gazed at him, her eyebrows raised.

"Dad said Mom wanted to talk to you alone. He wouldn’t let me interrupt." Ned’s eyes were warmly concerned.

A small smile played over Nancy’s lips. "You promised that your mom wouldn’t embarrass me, so why do you look anxious?"

"Because you looked terrified when I left," he said frankly. "Are you all right?"

She nodded slowly. "I think you made me some very specific promises about tonight," she pointed out. "Shouldn’t we be heading back to your place?"

Ned raised his eyebrows, but started the car. "You’re in the mood?"

She nodded again, still gazing at him.

_It wouldn’t be unwelcome._

"You’re going to leave me in suspense, aren’t you."

She chuckled. "Probably," she admitted. "It definitely didn’t go the way I expected."

"Can you just tell me whether you’ll be freaking out next time too?"

If she was, it would likely be for an entirely different reason. "Maybe. But probably not." If Nancy wanted to encourage Ned to propose again, it was good to know Edith was in her corner.

Then Nancy gave herself a little shake. Eighteen-sixty-five, indeed.

\--

Ned breathed in and smiled.

He was cuddled up against his girlfriend, and that faint, herbal floral scent was her shampoo. She was naked, and her palm was over his hand, holding it where he could feel her heartbeat. His knees were tucked up behind hers, and her firm ass was snuggled against his erection.

He wasn't sure if she had forgotten her name last night, but he'd practically forgotten his. His clothes were scattered between the doorway and his bed; he was pretty sure they had lost her dress near his couch. The bottle of lube was still out on the nightstand, surrounded by a scattering of empty condom wrappers.

Something had changed. Something his mother had said to Nancy had shifted the balance. He didn't know how else to explain it, or what else could have.

Not during sex. God. Although, if anything, she had seemed—impossibly—even more eager for it than usual. He'd almost had to shove her hand away from his crotch a few times during the drive back to the city. They had been wrapped around each other last night, lost in each other, until they had both been completely spent and exhausted.

And this was, by far, Ned's favorite way to wake up. He only had one hand trapped under hers, and he nuzzled a slow kiss against the silky skin of her shoulder as he gently nudged her legs apart.

Nancy woke with a moan a few seconds later. "How do you have _any_ energy," she mumbled, stretching.

"Guess I'm just insatiable," he murmured, caressing her hip. "Mmm?"

"Mmm," she agreed, guiding his hand between her legs. He took it slow, listening to her gasp, feeling her tense and grind against his touch. It would happen, but he needed her wet—and getting her there himself without needing lube was a lot more satisfying.

By the time he touched her clit instead of just teasing around it, she was incredibly sensitized, and let out a loud, needy whimper. "Baby, please," she groaned, and groped behind her to grasp his hip.

He fondled her for a little while longer, until she began to reach for his cock, and then chuckled and shoved her hand away. She almost purred with anticipation as he moved into position, the head of his cock just barely teasing the slick lips of her sex, tender with arousal. He moved inside her in a tantalizing slow thrust, and her inner walls were tight as he pressed between, until his hips were flush against her.

She cried out as he rubbed his thumb over her clit, gently pinching one of her nipples at the same time. "Fuck, _yes_ ," she moaned, and every stroke against her clit made her clench and release around his erection.

Bringing her to orgasm before letting his own happen was sweet agony. She wriggled her hips and gasped in pleasure as he nipped at her neck. His thrusts started slow, but she felt incredible, and soon they were moving together in a quick rhythm as they panted. She kept moaning, and that alone would have made him harder than hell.

She cried out again, loudly, her inner flesh rippling against his cock as she reached her climax. Ned quickened his thrusts as she sobbed in pleasure, then came with a stuttering groan and slumped back against the sheets, their skin damp and hot where it touched.

"Fuck," she muttered. He could still feel her breathing rapidly under his hands.

"Yes," he replied, and both of them laughed softly.

He had drifted off again when he felt her shifting. With a sigh he slid out of her and she turned to kiss his cheek. Then, with a creak of the mattress springs, he was alone in bed.

After she had closed the bathroom door behind her, he realized that wherever his phone was, it definitely wasn't charging beside his bed. Muttering a curse, he pushed the covers back.

The phone was still in his pocket from the night before. He dug it out of his pants, scrubbing the heel of his other hand against his stubbled jaw as he yawned, and headed back to the warmth of his bed, still naked.

The display flashed as he plugged it in, showing an unread message.

_Try again soon, sweetheart._ His mother had ended the text with a heart.

Ned was grinning as he pulled the covers over him, and he buried his head in his pillow so Nancy wouldn't hear his delighted laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally published elsewhere. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving feedback!


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